


Like Some Smoke (That I Tried Too Hard to Hold)

by Ghost_in_the_Hella



Series: To All of You (prompt fills) [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Implied Pricefield, Post-Bae Ending, past amberprice, talking with the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23044138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_in_the_Hella/pseuds/Ghost_in_the_Hella
Summary: Chloe and Max have made it out of Arcadia Bay alive, but some ghosts linger on.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Series: To All of You (prompt fills) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656067
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	Like Some Smoke (That I Tried Too Hard to Hold)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thathalloweengal](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thathalloweengal).



> Thathalloweengal prompted me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ghost-in-the-hella) with "You're in love with her" and "How much of that did you hear?" Some bae-ending angstiness ensued. Unbeta'd and minimally revised, so proceed with patience.
> 
> Title from the Brian Fallon song Smoke.

“You’re in love with her.”

It isn’t a question. Rachel doesn’t ask questions, only makes statements, even when she’s seven months dead. 

Chloe doesn’t respond. She releases the smoke from her lungs in a long, steady stream and watches it fade into the dark sky. It’s almost four in the morning. The only sleep she’s managed to get so far tonight has been plagued with nightmares so intense they leave her more tired than if she’d just stayed awake. It’s been that way pretty much every night since she and Max left the ruins of Arcadia Bay behind them. She is much, much too tired to talk to ghosts.

Naturally, Rachel doesn’t care. She steps across the narrow hotel balcony and plants herself directly in Chloe’s line of vision, leaning her elbows casually on the railing behind her. “I can’t say that I’m surprised. The way you always talked about her… Nobody gets that pissed about somebody they aren’t hella gaybones for.”

Chloe snorts out a laugh against her will, almost choking on a mouthful of smoke. “ _You’re_ hella gaybones,” she mutters with half-hearted humor.

“Mm.” Rachel holds out a hand. “Can I bum a smoke?”

Chloe sighs. Her eyes start to sting, so she closes them. “Rach…”

“What? A nicotine craving is a nicotine craving.”

“Rachel, you’re _dead_.” The words twist in Chloe’s throat.

“So?”

“So dead people don’t smoke. So you’ve been fucking _cremated_.” Chloe taps a fingernail against the charm she wears around her neck, a small vial filled with a tiny portion of the ashes that the funeral home assured her were Rachel’s. The rest of Rachel was divided into halves, one sitting in an urn on the Ambers’ mantel with all of their other trophies and the other scattered into the ocean by Sera. “So you _are_ smoke.” Chloe flicks the ashes off the end of her cigarette. They fall on her bare legs but she doesn’t brush them off. “Besides. I’ve only got half a pack left. Not wasting them on someone who doesn’t even have lungs anymore.”

Rachel shakes her head and laughs. “Asshole. Anyway, aren’t you quitting?”

Chloe eyes her uneasily. She knows this isn’t real. She knows she must’ve nodded off on the balcony with a cigarette in her hand and in a few minutes she’ll be woken up by it burning down to her fingers. She knows that this is all in her own head. But it’s still disconcerting when Rachel knows things that she hasn’t told anyone else.

Rachel gestures to the sliding glass door behind Chloe’s chair with a jerk of her head. “For her. Right?”

Chloe grunts in acknowledgement. She can feel her cheeks heating up even though it’s fucking cold outside. 

“Aw. Cute. Have you told her yet?”

“What, that I’m quitting?”

“No, dumbass. That you’re in love with her.”

Chloe takes a long drag and lets it out as slowly as she can, even though it’s even more pointless to stall when she’s talking to a figment of her imagination than when she actually used to talk with Rachel. “I told _you_ ,” she admits at last. “And look how well that went.”

“But I’m not Max. And it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

“No.” Chloe’s throat seizes up and her eyes fill with tears. “No, it wasn’t all bad. Rachel...”

“You should tell her.”

“I know. But--”

“But you’re scared.” Rachel nods thoughtfully. “Oh, Chloe.” 

The cigarette drops from Chloe’s fingers as she curls up into herself, sobbing like a baby into her bare knees.

“Chloe, Chloe.” A gentle hand strokes the back of Chloe’s head. Chloe thought it might feel cold, if it felt like anything. But it’s warm. It smells sweetly of jasmine. 

“I _trusted_ you,” Chloe gasps out, the words raw and wet.

“I know.”

“You _hurt_ me.”

Rachel’s voice is soft with regret. “I know.”

Chloe shudders and wipes at her tears. “I _miss_ you.”

“I miss you, too. I miss you like I miss breathing. Like I miss smoking cigarettes, and swimming, and kissing, and laughter, and sex…”

“Please don’t say that shit to me right now. I-I can’t, not right now; I _can’t_.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” A soft kiss presses into Chloe’s hair and Chloe sobs. “You should tell her. I know you’re hurt and you’re scared, but… You should tell her.”

Chloe shakes her head. “I can’t. She… I can’t _lose_ her. I can’t lose her like I lost you, like I lose fucking _everyone_!”

“Which is why you should tell her. Tell her so she knows where she stands. Because I guarantee you she’s just as scared as you are. Aren’t you, Max?”

Chloe lifts her head with a sudden jolt. “Max?!”

Rachel’s gone, but the sliding door behind Chloe is open and Max is standing there looking worried and perfect in her rumpled pajamas. Chloe rises up unsteadily from her chair, pausing to scoop up her smoldering cigarette and crush it out into the ashtray. “H-hey, Max…”

“Hey…” Max looks like she’s searching for the polite way to tell Chloe that she just witnessed her being seven different kinds of batshit insane. 

“Uh. How much of that did you hear?”

Max worries at her lip for a few seconds before answering. “Enough that I want to give you a big hug. Is that okay?”

That almost sends Chloe off into another round of tears. She nods and lets herself be drawn into Max’s warm embrace.

“It’s really late,” Max says eventually.

“Yeah.”

“And it’s _way_ too cold out here for boxer shorts.”

Chloe laughs, and it almost feels okay. “Yeah.”

Max gives her one more squeeze and gently pulls back to look Chloe in the eyes. “Can explanations wait until morning?”

Chloe nods. “Definitely.”

“Good. Then let’s go back to sleep.”

Max takes Chloe’s hand and leads her back inside. Chloe hesitates at the door, casting one last glance out into the empty dark. She takes a deep breath, not sure if she’s hoping for a whiff of jasmine or not. All she can smell is cigarettes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to thathalloweengal for the prompt, and to all of you for reading!


End file.
